


(happiness) is always in the last place you look

by Anastasia_Green_theanaverse



Category: Original Work
Genre: (i'm sorry i needed a cool name), F/F, F/M, also meg i'm sorry, and it's very vaguely based on my love life, but nothing triggering i think, i worked really hard, okay so i'm really proud of this, so there's kinda some vague sex references (and some not so vague), sorry to everybody i've ever loved, um hannah i used your name so you probably shouldn't read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anastasia_Green_theanaverse/pseuds/Anastasia_Green_theanaverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rob was like poison.<br/>Hannah was the closest thing to a soulmate she’d ever found.<br/>Meg was a hurricane, a huge, elemental force inside a petite, beautiful body.<br/>But Naomi ... Naomi wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met before.</p><p>(a.k.a. Ana still sucks at writing summaries, surprise surprise!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	(happiness) is always in the last place you look

**Author's Note:**

> A huge apology to anyone whose name/face/personality I stole for this. Unbeta'd as ever, excuse my failings please.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Rob was like poison. Addictive, heady poison, that made her feel alive as it burned her from the inside out. She knew he was a bad idea, and she tried to hold onto that, but somewhere along the way, between the laughter (addictive, bubbling away in her chest, clearing her head) and the touch of his fingers and his lips (incendiary, lighting wildfires on her skin that consumed all thought and reason) she forgot. She lost herself in him, in his kiss. Tall, skinny and dark haired, he was a protagonist straight out of every shitty teen movie, full of angst and Doctor Who references.

Rob was a dick. A horrible, insecure mess of unwarranted harshness and words that hit like hammer blows.

When she left him, it was like cold turkey. She’d wake up, drenched in sweat, plagued by dreams, memories of him, aching for just one more touch. 

When she was finally clean, finally strong enough to stop going back for more, she deleted his texts, blocked his number, and said “fuck you”. 

She started taking long walks in the woods, running herself ragged in the gym, and stopped eating donuts. Every breath taken free of him was a blessing. She still woke up sometimes, before the dawn, and traced the trails he’d seared onto her skin, remembered the blue of his eyes that she’d nearly drowned in. She missed him. She was grown up enough to admit that. But not enough to go back. Not enough to destroy the newfound peace she’d fought so hard to gain. Not enough to override the love she was finally beginning to feel for herself, for the first time in her short, 16-year-long life.

*

Hannah was the closest thing to a soulmate she’d ever found. Hannah was funny, kind, smart and vulnerable, and the wounds in her felt soothed every time they touched. She fell in love with her so fast, but it wasn’t falling, it was flying, and she was soaring higher with every smile, every touch. Long limbed, voluptuous, with short hair that changed colour at least once a month and blue eyes that felt like coming home, she was beautiful and strange.

Hannah was completely and utterly unattainable.

And even though the love she felt was the closest thing to purity she’d ever found, even though it made her feel whole, she knew she had to move on. She knew she had to let it go, or risk being lost in a love that would grow to hurt far more than it healed.

It took 9 long, exhausting months, and there were some days where she almost felt happy to hold on, to live with her unrequited love, even if it meant she’d probably spend her life alone and unhappy. But she persevered, because Hannah was not the kind of person who would want her friends to feel any pain at all, especially not because of her.

And when it was gone, and all that was left was the easy, perfect friendship she’d always dreamed of, and her heart wasn’t broken but bruised, she knew she’d made the right choice.

*

Meg was a hurricane, a huge, elemental force inside a petite, beautiful body. Long, silky brown hair, stormy grey eyes and a mouth made for kissing, Meg made her mouth run dry, with her soft curves and secret, sexy smiles, and she’d never felt more alive. She could make her eyes roll into the back of her head with a touch, could set her skin on fire with a kiss. And when it was all over, when they were laid together, lazy and sated, Meg would make her laugh like she never had before, full of life and love and lust.

They could spend hours talking, not even touching, but wrapped up in each other’s minds. They would lose themselves in fantasy worlds created together, they would gush over Lord Of The Rings and Being Human in the same breath.

Meg was even more fucked up than she was.

She knew that someday, she would wake up and find herself gone, destroyed in the wake of Meg’s tornado. A hollow shell of the person she was, because no matter how much she loved Meg, she wasn’t the one withstand her storm. And so one night, she made love to Meg like she never had before, she spilled every word and apology that she’d never be able to say from her hands and her lips and her tongue. She worshipped every inch of her skin, and branded them both with the heat of it. In the morning she was gone.

A year later, she ran into Meg in a train station. A man, far shorter than she but still taller than Meg, with blue eyes made of kindness and a warm, genuine smile, held out his hand. His name was Carl, and when he looked at Meg, it was like watching an explosion of sunlight. She knew that she’d made the right choice, because she and Meg might have been good together, but these two were clearly soulmates.

*

Naomi wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met before. She wasn’t a force of nature, she wasn’t a perfect fit, and she wasn’t a poison. Naomi was just herself, and unapologetically so, and she fell in love with her like breathing, easy, small and unnoticed, until she almost lost her.

Naomi wasn’t what she expected her to be.

They fought, and often. Sometimes it was small, and lasted just 5 minutes. Sometimes, it was big, and it lasted 5 weeks. But they always found their way home eventually, and they always managed to move on and be stronger afterwards. They made love like every time was the first time, all gentle touches and small smiles, every moment dripping with tenderness, every look overflowing with love. Sometimes, afterwards, she started to cry, and Naomi held her, stroked her hair until the storm passed.

Feeling better didn’t happen overnight. It took years, of quiet moments when she explained the scars littering her body, the reason she rarely answered the phone to her mother, why even now, she struggled to not vomit after every meal. Naomi listened to every story, and after she wiped away the tears, she replied with her own. The reason for her fear of the dark, and the story behind the long, silvery scars on her back; Naomi had more than enough demons to share.

They held each other’s hearts, kept them safe and protected, and slowly helped to mend their wounds. And when she returned to their tiny, perfect flat at night, her heart would always lift a little. “Naomi,” she would say. “I’m home.”

And she was.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos/reviews would be greatly appreciated!  
> tumblr: the-anaverse.tumblr.com


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